


We All Fall Down

by cecilantro



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 17:31:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14698995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: One day, they'll get to panic over someoneotherthan Molly or Beau going down.That day is not today.





	We All Fall Down

Everybody shakes when Mollymauk goes down, he’s so strong that the idea of him hitting the floor is horrifying. Nobody suffers the way that Yasha does, coming closest would be Fjord and Caleb, and of those, Fjord is adept at keeping his head.   
Caleb is not.   
Yasha charges in first as Molly is thrown back by a heavy swiping sword, a trail of blood, he hits the floor hard and doesn’t get up again.   
Yasha passes over his body, bleeding sluggishly into the earth, and swings her sword hard, horizontal.   
The assassin smashes it away with another swipe of their sword, leering and laughing manically underneath the heavy breath.   
The sword comes loose of Yasha’s fingers and spins, Jester only just manages to dive out of the way as it flies from the force of the back blow. She chases it, side-stepping around the assassin and she shouts Caleb’s name to the void around her.   
He’s already moving, he’s watched Molly so much now that he copies, mimics inherently and he runs. Light-footed, he leaps over Molly and spins as he does so, the way that Molly does when he swaps accuracy for power and momentum.   
A spiral of fury and panic, Caleb calls Molly’s name as he descends and erupts into flames, they whip down his arms to his fingertips. The first two come out X-shape, the third follows, perfect bullseye as Caleb lands between Molly and the assassin. Or what remains of the assassin, because he’s lost it, where the heavily armored humanoid stood seconds before is only ash, glowing dimly with the last of Caleb’s anxious rage.   
He turns, immediate, and drops beside Molly, turns him over and breathes calmly, he thinks.   
And all the others see is Caleb hunched over a dying Molly, holding Molly’s head in his lap and sobbing hard as he scrabbles for the remnants of the Periapt of Wound Closure, destroyed in the final strike.   
“Jester!” Yasha draws the cleric’s attention where it’s been pulled away and she yelps, pulls up her shield just in time to hear the harsh sound of sword hitting wood, she sees the cracks in the back of it and pulls, the sword is lodged in the shield itself and comes loose of its owners hands.   
Yasha, sword rightfully back in her hands, storms up and cleaves down, top to bottom perfectly split in half. Jester breathes out, shakily, and looks up at her. They’re both blood spattered, but Yasha gives her a quick, one-armed hug anyway.   
“You deal with Molly, Beau and I’ll cover you.” Yasha tells her, and Beau drops in on Jester’s other side. There’s a flash from Molly’s direction as Caleb Fire Bolts something coming toward them, that thankfully is  _ not _ Fjord.   
Nott and Fjord are working in tandem on Caleb’s other side, Fjord fires out beam after beam of eldritch energy, and when he pauses to breathe, Nott scampers up his back for a better view and looses two bolts into each enemy.   
“Jester, Jester Jester,  _ Jester _ !” Caleb calls for her, panicked, he stroke Molly’s hair away from his face with one hand, the other pressed to Molly’s throat to feel for a dwindling pulse.   
Caleb is all out of health potions, Molly is all out of time.   
“ _ JESTER. _ ” He roars, and she’s running to him, an archer takes aim for her and fires. Beau calls her name as she jumps in, hands too low to catch it, but in the perfect position to take the shot instead.   
The arrow thuds into her shoulder, and for a moment it’s a dull pain, like she’s been punched.   
And then she’s falling to the floor in Jester’s dust trail and can’t bite her tongue on the scream, she’s wracked with agony, a thrum of electricity that courses through her.   
Jester moves to Molly as Yasha does to Beau, pulls the arrow from its wound and sets her hand on Beau’s shoulder, breathes out under the shield of her greatsword and lets her celestial blood fix everything. Beau’s wound closes over, just enough to be functional, and the lightning in her body fades away.   
“Are you okay?” Yasha asks her, concern swimming over Beau’s eyes.   
“Owch.” Beau replies hoarsely, and she gets prime position to watch as Yasha straightens up and locks her eyes onto the archer.   
As her shoulders drop and she steps away, there’s an eruption of darkness, the flex of her skeletal wings as they spread from her shoulders, the sudden blackening of her hair.   
“Oh, shit.” Beau pushes herself up to watch, and Yasha breaks into a full sprint, gives a roar, takes on the manic edge of her Rage.   
The archer stands no chance, they draw a shortsword as it becomes evident they won’t be able to escape, but Yasha doesn’t even flinch as she comes up, she spins the greatsword around one hand, uses the other to grab the shortsword by the blade and yanks it out of the archer’s grip, throws it aside. Beau watches in adoration as Yasha settles her bloody hand back on the hilt of the greatsword and plunges straight down, stabbing through helmet and skull with a sickening crunch and a fine mist of blood.

Jester lands on her knees next to Molly, hissing at the friction burn and grass stains but disregarding them, she drops her handaxe and claps the free hand to the bleeding wound of Molly’s chest, spits a few words in an arcane language that Caleb assumes is of her cleric nature, and relaxes her shoulders as Molly’s wounds heal.   
He gasps and sits up, narrowly avoiding headbutting Caleb as he does so, he feels fingers slip away from his hair and his neck and turns, Jester is already scrambling away, back towards Beau.   
“Caleb?” Molly asks him, still breathing heavily.   
Caleb jumps to him, a very brief, very tight hug.   
“Mollymauk.” He says, quiet and aching and hurt, “I thought- you- you, please, please do not die.”   
“Still alive, Caleb, come on. Up we get.”   
He stands, dragging Caleb up with him by the shoulder as the wizard peels himself away.   
“I need you, Mollymauk.” Caleb catches Molly’s wrist as he goes to run to Yasha, “Please.”   
Molly spins both scimitars to one hand and cups Caleb’s jaw, he leans in and kisses him, quick and soft.   
“It’ll be fine, you worry too much. I think Fjord could do with a hand.” And Molly is away, throwing the scimitars into the air, cross formation, and activating them, catching them in the opposite hands. A carnival trick he’s been holding out on, and he rushes to Yasha’s side, they move together toward the next enemy.   
Caleb breaks in the other direction, launches a Fire Bolt for the armored assailant coming up on Fjord’s back, held off only by Nott’s hand crossbow.   
“Caleb!” She calls, excited, as the assailant reels and pats at their armor. He gives her a quick thumbs up, and rushes toward them.   
“Caleb,  _ duck _ .” Fjord calls, and he hits the floor immediately. Two burst of green light go soaring over his head, and when he looks up again, Nott and Fjord are on him. Nott twists to fire off two bolts into the reeling assailant, and Fjord hauls Caleb to his feet, dismisses the falchion to pull him in for a hug. Caleb leans into him, breathes hard.   
“He’s alive. It’s okay, Caleb, they’re all dead, an’ Molly’s alive. We’re okay.” Fjord mumbles reassurance into the top of Caleb’s head, his grip tightens as Caleb begins to shake, violently.   
“I’ve got him.” Molly assures Fjord as he comes up beside them, trailing the girls behind him. Fjord keeps a hand on Caleb’s shoulder as Molly sweeps down and picks the wizard up, bridal style. Caleb buries his face in Molly’s shoulder to hide tears, they hear muffled,   
“You should not be carrying me, you’re hurt. Put me down.”   
“Ah, let me think… no.” Molly rolls his eyes, “I’m honestly more annoyed about the Periapt, but Yasha’s offered to get it fixed for me.” He shrugs, Caleb feels the tug of it.   
“Speakin’ of Yasha.” Fjord breaks his sentence up to kiss Caleb’s hair, and leans to see around Molly. Yasha is now leaning heavily on Beau, one arm around her shoulders, her eyes are back to their dual colours and her wings have faded away.   
“You alright?” Fjord asks her, and she smiles weakly,   
“Drained, but unhurt.” she tells him, squeezes Beau’s shoulders, “Bit of a shock to see Beauregard go down, you know?”   
“Bit of a shock?” Molly laughs, turning to her, “Yasha, I’ve only ever seen you go that hard for  _ Toya _ that time one of the patrons was getting a little creepy.”   
“Molly.” Yasha warns, and he snaps his mouth closed, but the smug air remains. Beau looks up at her, an arm around her waist,   
“Oh shit, does that mean I’m special?”   
“Do you  _ caaaaare _ about Beau, Yasha?” Jester teases, leaning in, and laughs delightedly at the flush on Yasha’s cheeks.   
“Of- of course, I care about, all, all of you.” Yasha protests dimly. Molly sets Caleb back on the floor so that he can come to her side and pat at her arm.   
“Ah, but you’re not  _ in love _ with all of us, are you?” and ducks as she swats for his face, “Just Beau!” He adds, and darts away from the earnest slap she aims at the back of his head.   
Beau, to her credit, gives an awkward, forced laugh, too high and too tight to ever be genuine.   
“ _ Sure _ , Molly,  _ sure. _ ” Beau tells him, voice laced with sarcasm and the background haze of hurt, “Totally.”   
“I mean,” Yasha shuffles, uncomfortable, voice quiet and nervous despite the evil glare she’s levelling at Mollymauk, “He’s not… entirely wrong.”   
“Entirely?” Molly straightens, his tail waving low like an excited puppy, “So I was partially right?”   
Caleb studies her for a moment, looks her up and down.   
“ _ It is not just Beauregard. _ ” He speaks to her in Celestial, not a trace of doubt to his tone, “ _ I would assume Jester, too? Would that be correct? _ ”   
“ _ Must you both insist on outing me like this? _ ” In Celestial, Yasha’s discomfort and irritation is even clearer than Common.   
“ _ I’m sorry. _ ” Caleb replies, and turns to Molly instead, switches back into Common, “ It is getting cold, Mollymauk, perhaps we should leave. Go back to the inn and… warm up?” He punctuates the question with a step closer to Molly, holding his gaze, and the simple action is enough to drive a shiver down Molly’s spine.   
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea, let’s go.”   
“ _ Kiss her _ .” Caleb hums in Celestial, as quiet and close to Yasha as possible as they begin to move, “ _ Kiss them both. _ ”   
“ _ Take your own advice, Caleb _ .” Yasha replies, a roll of her eyes, and he levels his gaze with hers, steps up a little faster to tug at Molly’s coat.   
“Yes, darling?” Molly smiles as he turns, and blinks in sudden shock as Caleb pulls himself onto his tiptoes to kiss him, harder than on the battlefield, somehow defiant. They stop dead, Molly wraps an arm around Caleb and pulls him in a little to deepen the kiss.   
Yasha is regretting her comeback.   
“I feel left out.” Beau shrugs a shoulder to jab into Yasha’s ribs, and she sighs heavily.   
“Fine! Fine.”   
Her fingertips find Beau’s jaw, but as she draws in, Beau grabs her wrist,   
“Whoa, whoa, Yasha,” Yasha stops, “If you’re not into me, that’s chill, you know? Don’t do somethin’ just because those fuckwads are teasing you for it.”   
“I’m not.” Yasha assures, and kisses her before Beau can form a witty response.   
“‘S about time.” Fjord folds his arms, “But can we save it for the warm, dry inn, please?”   
There’s a round of disgruntled agreement as Yasha and Molly break away from their respective partners, and they begin the trek home once again.

**Author's Note:**

> i need to write fjord gettin fucked up at some point


End file.
